the complete poetical works-第4部分
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Dance upon the parlor wall;
Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved; the true…hearted;
Come to visit me once more;
He; the young and strong; who cherished
Noble longings for the strife;
By the roadside fell and perished;
Weary with the march of life!
They; the holy ones and weakly;
Who the cross of suffering bore;
Folded their pale hands so meekly;
Spake with us on earth no more!
And with them the Being Beauteous;
Who unto my youth was given;
More than all things else to love me;
And is now a saint in heaven。
With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine;
Takes the vacant chair beside me;
Lays her gentle hand in mine。
And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes;
Like the stars; so still and saint…like;
Looking downward from the skies。
Uttered not; yet comprehended;
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer;
Soft rebukes; in blessings ended;
Breathing from her lips of air。
Oh; though oft depressed and lonely;
All my fears are laid aside;
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!
FLOWERS。
Spake full well; in language quaint and olden;
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine;
When he called the flowers; so blue and golden;
Stars; that in earth's firmament do shine。
Stars they are; wherein we read our history;
As astrologers and seers of eld;
Yet not wrapped about with awful mystery;
Like the burning stars; which they beheld。
Wondrous truths; and manifold as wondrous;
God hath written in those stars above;
But not less in the bright flowerets under us
Stands the revelation of his love。
Bright and glorious is that revelation;
Written all over this great world of ours;
Making evident our own creation;
In these stars of earth; these golden flowers。
And the Poet; faithful and far…seeing;
Sees; alike in stars and flowers; a part
Of the self…same; universal being;
Which is throbbing in his brain and heart。
Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining;
Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day;
Tremulous leaves; with soft and silver lining;
Buds that open only to decay;
Brilliant hopes; all woven in gorgeous tissues;
Flaunting gayly in the golden light;
Large desires; with most uncertain issues;
Tender wishes; blossoming at night!
These in flowers and men are more than seeming;
Workings are they of the self…same powers;
Which the Poet; in no idle dreaming;
Seeth in himself and in the flowers。
Everywhere about us are they glowing;
Some like stars; to tell us Spring is born;
Others; their blue eyes with tears o'er…flowing;
Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn;
Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing;
And in Summer's green…emblazoned field;
But in arms of brave old Autumn's wearing;
In the centre of his brazen shield;
Not alone in meadows and green alleys;
On the mountain…top; and by the brink
Of sequestered pools in woodland valleys;
Where the slaves of nature stoop to drink;
Not alone in her vast dome of glory;
Not on graves of bird and beast alone;
But in old cathedrals; high and hoary;
On the tombs of heroes; carved in stone;
In the cottage of the rudest peasant;
In ancestral homes; whose crumbling towers;
Speaking of the Past unto the Present;
Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers;
In all places; then; and in all seasons;
Flowers expand their light and soul…like wings;
Teaching us; by most persuasive reasons;
How akin they are to human things。
And with childlike; credulous affection
We behold their tender buds expand;
Emblems of our own great resurrection;
Emblems of the bright and better land。
THE BELEAGUERED CITY。
I have read; in some old; marvellous tale;
Some legend strange and vague;
That a midnight host of spectres pale
Beleaguered the walls of Prague。
Beside the Moldau's rushing stream;
With the wan moon overhead;
There stood; as in an awful dream;
The army of the dead。
White as a sea…fog; landward bound;
The spectral camp was seen;
And; with a sorrowful; deep sound;
The river flowed between。
No other voice nor sound was there;
No drum; nor sentry's pace;
The mist…like banners clasped the air;
As clouds with clouds embrace。
But when the old cathedral bell
Proclaimed the morning prayer;
The white pavilions rose and fell
On the alarmed air。
Down the broad valley fast and far
The troubled army fled;
Up rose the glorious morning star;
The ghastly host was dead。
I have read; in the marvellous heart of man;
That strange and mystic scroll;
That an army of phantoms vast and wan
Beleaguer the human soul。
Encamped beside Life's rushing stream;
In Fancy's misty light;
Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam
Portentous through the night。
Upon its midnight battle…ground
The spectral camp is seen;
And; with a sorrowful; deep sound;
Flows the River of Life between。
No other voice nor sound is there;
In the army of the grave;
No other challenge breaks the air;
But the rushing of Life's wave。
And when the solemn and deep churchbell
Entreats the soul to pray;
The midnight phantoms feel the spell;
The shadows sweep away。
Down the broad Vale of Tears afar
The spectral camp is fled;
Faith shineth as a morning star;
Our ghastly fears are dead。
MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR
Yes; the Year is growing old;
And his eye is pale and bleared!
Death; with frosty hand and cold;
Plucks the old man by the beard;
Sorely; sorely!
The leaves are falling; falling;
Solemnly and slow;
Caw! caw! the rooks are calling;
It is a sound of woe;
A sound of woe!
Through woods and mountain passes
The winds; like anthems; roll;
They are chanting solemn masses;
Singing; 〃Pray for this poor soul;
Pray; pray!〃
And the hooded clouds; like friars;
Tell their beads in drops of rain;
And patter their doleful prayers;
But their prayers are all in vain;
All in vain!
There he stands in the foul weather;
The foolish; fond Old Year;
Crowned with wild flowers and with heather;
Like weak; despised Lear;
A king; a king!
Then comes the summer…like day;
Bids the old man rejoice!
His joy! his last! O; the man gray
Loveth that ever…soft voice;
Gentle and low。
To the crimson woods he saith;
To the voice gentle and low
Of the soft air; like a daughter's breath;
〃Pray do not mock me so!
Do not laugh at me!〃
And now the sweet day is dead;
Cold in his arms it lies;
No stain from its breath is spread
Over the glassy skies;
No mist or stain!
Then; too; the Old Year dieth;
And the forests utter a moan;
Like the voice of one who crieth
In the wilderness alone;
〃Vex not his ghost!〃
Then comes; with an awful roar;
Gathering and sounding on;
The storm…wind from Labrador;
The wind Euroclydon;
The storm…wind!
Howl! howl! and from the forest
Sweep the red leaves away!
Would; the sins that thou abhorrest;
O Soul! could thus decay;
And be swept away!
For there shall come a mightier blast;
There shall be a darker day;
And the stars; from heaven down…cast
Like red leaves be swept away!
Kyrie; eleyson!
Christe; eleyson!
**********
EARLIER POEMS
AN APRIL DAY
When the warm sun; that brings
Seed…time and harvest; has returned again;
'T is sweet to visit the still wood; where springs
The first flower of the plain。
I love the season well;
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms;
Nor dark and many…folded clouds foretell
The coming…on of storms。
From the earth's loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance; and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold;
The drooping tree revives。
The softly…warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods; and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun; that moves along
The forest openings。
When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light; the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills;
And wide the upland glows。
And when the eve is born;
In the blue lake the sky; o'er…reaching far;
Is hollowed out and the moon dips her horn;
And twinkles many a star。
Inverted in the tide
Stand the gray rocks; and trembling shadows throw;
And the fair trees look over; side by side;
And see themselves below。
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee; as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail; till; to its autumn brought;
Life's golden fruit is shed。
AUTUMN
With what a glory comes and goes the year!
The buds of spring; those beautiful harbingers
Of sunny skies and cloudless times; enjoy
Life's newness; and earth's garniture spread out;
And when the silver habit of the clouds
Comes down upon the autumn sun; and with
A sober gladness the old year takes up
His bright inheritance of golden fruits;
A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene。
There is a beautiful spirit breathing now
Its mellow richness on the clustered trees;
And; from a beaker full of richest dyes;
Pouring new glory on the autumn woods;
And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds。
Morn on the mountain; like a summer bird;
Lifts up her purple wing; and in the vales
The gentle wind; a sweet and passionate wooer;
Kisses the blushing leaf; and stirs up life
Within the solemn woods of ash deep…crimsoned;
And silver beech; and maple yellow…leaved;
Where Autumn; li